


White Christmas

by mangledmann



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bedroom Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangledmann/pseuds/mangledmann
Summary: Nero wants to make sure his uncle feels appreciated during the holiday season.
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Semjaza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semjaza/gifts).



The world was quiet. Mute and hushed; the usual hubbub of Capulet city lay silent for once. It was a moment of respite Nero didn't know he needed. Fortuna had always been quieter, and there was less white noise, traffic, sirens and alarms that kept him up at night.

Oh, but it didn't have Dante. Dante and his mismatched, cluttered office. His breathy laugh when something struck funny with him. Fortuna didn't have things he loved, only the things he was familiar with. Well, now he had something he both loved, and was familiar with, in the form of a six-foot devil hunter snoring against his back.

Before this, Nero had never allowed someone at his back when sleeping. He'd always pressed his spine into the mattress and braced for a half-rested sleep of being alert for any danger. But with everything he'd been through with Dante, it felt wrong to not let the man curl up around him. With Vergil revealed to be his father, and consequently, Dante as his uncle, Nero had worried about their relationship.

Ever since he’d met his uncle on Fortuna, they had something that couldn’t be passed off as just _friendly._ Dante was attractive, and undeniably so. Nero assumed that was what drew him in, possessed him to wrap his legs around Dante like he owned him, get onto his knees and toy with the man’s fly.

For all his faults, Dante was a damn good pillow and security blanket. Scratch that. Nero wouldn't swap the idiot out for anything else now. Routine for them was lazing together in bed until the phone downstairs rang with a client, or something came crashing in through the windows, or doors, brandishing an intent to kill.

Nero appreciated the peace whilst it lasted, and faintly remembered celebrating festivities amongst the orphanage and his adoptive family. It baffled initially him why Dante didn’t celebrate such things – family, and the like, until it became blatantly obvious that the poor man lacked a family.

Sure, he had Lady and Trish. Morrison checked in from time to time, but there was something different in the relationship Dante craved. Although he didn’t explicitly say he needed romantic affection… Nero found it rather obvious, by the way Dante looked well rested when they shared a bed together. How Nero had to prompt him to eat – even if it was just sharing. Perhaps Dante didn’t even realise that he curled closer to Nero in his sleep, that his arms were clutching his nephew’s front, or his nose buried in the spiked tufts of Nero’s crewcut.

Nero rolled over with as much care as he could, not wanting to disturb the slice of heaven he’d been served. Chest-to-chest, he could feel Dante’s strong, rhythmic heartbeat, and the light prickle of hair. Despite the happy-go-lucky, carefree persona, Nero knew if he weren’t lying beside his uncle, the man in question would pace the halls until he passed out upon his desk chair, or the lumpy sofa in the main office. On a rare occasion, Dante would collapse then and there from exhaustion.

He freed a hand and ran the back of his knuckles down Dante’s face tenderly. Stubble and rough skin greeted him, yet there were ever-soft lips Nero brushed his thumb over. Moving to throw a leg over Dante’s waist, Nero couldn’t help but sigh. Dante tried to do well. Tried to help where he could, but life was difficult and always threw it back in your face, regardless if the actions came from a good heart. Nero could sympathise first-hand with how that felt. The moment he’d opened up to Dante, told the man he wanted to pursue something more than colleagues or friends; the man had practically sobbed and clung to him, with Nero silently vowing to never let go. That heart, that beat against his own, was solid gold. Dante wasn’t a saint – but to Nero, he was everything. Ironic – coming from a society that worshipped the man’s father, only to now perform the act to his kin.

He supposed they were designed for one another in a way. On mornings that didn’t need words, where demonic instinct overrode common sense, there were no arguments or fights, as each of them knew what was going on by scent or body language alone. Nero was still young and inexperienced when it came to that front – sometimes he woke up overwhelmed by a sour, despondent scent that rolled off Dante.

But he could never leave. Oh, he never wanted to, anyway. All Nero ever wanted was to groom through Dante’s hair, or his scales on the occasions he felt too vulnerable as a human. As Dante’s pale lashes slowly opened, Nero brought both hands back to warm, prickly cheeks.

The snowfall outside caught the corner of his vision, but Nero didn’t care. Dante’s eyes – dilated from sleep, were lazily looking at him, relaxed. Like a damn cat if Nero couldn’t argue any different.

“Mh. G’mornin’…” Dante grunted out with a yawn — his voice gravelly. He shuffled a little closer, only to chuckle as Nero’s lips brushed his stubble. “Oh, a real good morning,” as if he’d almost expected Nero to not be beside him when he woke.

That was saddening. Nero reciprocated the greeting with a snort, treating himself to Dante’s satin-smooth lips. Unusually soft, since… well. Dante hardly was the sort to use lip balm, and he was always picking and biting at his lips. The demonic healing probably helped.

Oh, but they were more inviting than any silk Nero had touched. Dante’s tongue and teeth were sour and bitter from sleep, but Nero couldn’t care less. Wedging Dante down with the angle he had, Nero cooed.

He’d been told that Vergil had always craved love and protection – yet his brother had never, ever made a fuss over being neglected. Dante’s cravings went unspoken, and Nero simply wouldn’t let that sit. Perching over his uncle’s hips, Nero kept their lips connected, feeling breath ghost against his upper lip.

Morning sex was never something he objected to, and Dante always wanted affection, but Nero still waited – hovering a hand above Dante’s crotch as he slid back to the side. The covers were cosy, and he was in a lazy mood regardless.

Dante’s words failed him for a moment before he spoke up. “Hey, go on, kid. It’s alright.” With his permission, Nero guided the waistband down, feeling Dante’s appreciation against his palm.

He was no stranger to this – but his uncle certainly was gifted when it came to his size. Wasn’t like Nero really had a gag reflex left any more. Settling with his chest against one of Dante’s thighs, Nero licked up the underside of his cock, tasting salt and musk. A taste he couldn’t really describe as anything other than _Dante._

“Fuh, Nee. Ya don’t haff- to…” Dante managed to puff out, pulling a comforter over his own shoulders to ease the chill. His free hand fondled Nero’s short fringe, ruffling the hair the wrong way. Nero’s tongue peeked out and teased the underside of Dante’s cockhead, his hand rolling down the velvet soft skin.

The resounding whimper from Dante made Nero vibrate with pride. Only he could bring these reactions out of his boyfriend and work every drop of tension free from him. It was the holidays – a time for giving gifts, after all.

Kissing over Dante’s now-wet cockhead, Nero huffed hot air against his slit, before taking half into his mouth. Re-joining his gaze with Dante’s, he could see the man thickly swallow at the sight and sensation of his nephew between his legs. Nero pushed on, until his chin bumped Dante’s sack – and Dante swore.

Beginning at a slow, heavy pace, Nero pulled back, and kissed down Dante’s shaft, watching it twitch and weep pre-come, before he then lathed his tongue back over the head and swallowed it back down. He gave himself room to work and fisted the lower half of Dante’s cock fondly.

To no surprise, Dante bucked his hips and whimpered again, more throaty and needy. Nero followed the rhythm with his mouth, letting his uncle order their tempo, until a heavy, salt taste was spilling out over his tongue. For a minute, Dante sat tensed up, his nails scratching Nero’s scalp as his orgasm caused him to convulse.

It was a delicious sight, Nero had to admit. Dante, unravelled and finally lax, panting hot breath into the air.

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays!! i hope you enjoy!!! for semjaza from the danero secret santa on twitter :)


End file.
